Bathtub Tyranny
by ice illuser
Summary: All those chores have caused Sophie to rebel. Can Howl appease his suddenly fearsome wife?


Disclaimer: If I owned Howl's Moving Castle I would be nice and rich

Disclaimer: If I owned Howl's Moving Castle I would be nice and rich. Since I'm not, do the math for yourself.

A/N: As a very belated Christmas gift for avidainking, I'm attempting to a write a Sophie/Howl fic. I read the book, and watched the movie, but it's been awhile, so please forgive me if this comes out a bit strange. It might even be a blend of the book and movie…actually, it is. Oh well.

--

It was a normal day in the castle, with Sophie cleaning as usual. While Calcifer could keep the castle moving, it always still required constant cleaning and attention from Sophie. Of course, now with her magical powers fully realized, cleaning had never been easier.

Some things though were still rather stubborn. Like Howl's bathtub. It had stains all over it from various hair dyes and other things of that sort, and they must have been a bit magical because as much as Sophie was trying to convince it to come off, it wasn't.

"You want to come off now," she said, and waited patiently. Nothing happened.

"You _really _want to come off now," she prodded. Nothing happened.

She scrubbed at it with a raggedy piece of cloth hopefully. None of the strange orange stain came off.

She poured a bucket of water on the stain to no avail. The orange stain stayed the exact same bright color, none of it fading away as though purposely aggravating her.

Wiping the sweat away from her brow, she considered the stain carefully. She _could _get Howl up here since it was his bathtub after all, but he might smirk infuriatingly at the fact that she who had managed to clean up his pigpen of a castle through a whirlwind of cleaning couldn't even remove a stain from his bathtub. No, it was better to try to get it off by herself, without any of Howl's help. Besides, she never knew when he would turn a simple thing into a monstrosity, like his house.

Three hours later, hair damp from sweat and clothes soaked with water and other cleaning detergents she had tried, Sophie was beginning to give up. No matter how much coaxing, how much water, or how much soap; the stain just would not come off. She hadn't tried lye yet, considering it a bit overkill, but at this point she was pretty much willing to try anything.

Standing up, she was about to march out of the door to find some lye, when Michael walked in and stared at her.

"Have you been in here the whole time?" Michael finally asked incredulously, staring at Sophie's bedraggled state.

Sophie sighed, pushing her brown hair back, "Yes, unfortunately."

"…did Howl somehow explode all of his hair products?" Michael guessed tentatively, eyes wide at the thought of all the stuff flying around.

"I wonder…" Sophie said, considering the idea as she stared at the stain, "If he did though, I can't tell. There's just this orange…stain that won't come off of the bathtub."

Michael blinked at the orange stains that he hadn't even noticed to be on the bathtub, "That? _That's _what kept you for so long?"

Sophie scowled, "You try and see if you can get it out so fast," she said challengingly.

"Okay," replied Michael, swinging his legs over the side of the tub and pulling his sleeves up, "Let's see…"

--

Howl yawned and stretched. There was so much to do, so many books to read, so many things to see…he glanced at the clock. Already 1:00? He frowned as his stomach growled. That was strange, Sophie should have told him to come down and eat a long, long time ago.

Swinging his legs off the chair, he stood up and walked out of his study. His eyebrows furrowed some more in confusion. He didn't see Michael running around anywhere either.

"Calcifer!" he called out, "Where is everyone?"

"In your bathroom," Calcifer's voice replied.

Howl blinked, and attempted to clean out his ears, "Sorry, _what?"_

"In your bathroom," Calcifer repeated, with obvious indication that he was rolling his fiery eyes.

"…are they sick?" Howl ventured.

"They're quite fine," Calcifer said blithely, "But probably supremely pissed off at you right now."

Howl frowned as he walked up the stairs to his bathroom, "What?"

"You might want to be a bit careful when you open the door," Calcifer suggested snidely, before getting quiet again.

Howl, following Calcifer's advice, carefully eased the door of his bathroom open, soundlessly. A bedraggled Sophie and Michael were arguing with each other, waving around soapy rags.

"I'm telling you, it has to be a curse or something!"

"Don't be an idiot! Why would there be a curse on a bathtub of all things?"

"But then why can't you convince it to come out?"

"…maybe it's Howl mixing up something weird?"

"His hair products? Since when did his hair products have magic in them?"

"I think they've always been that way. It would explain a lot of things."

"So…it's his fault?"

"Definitely."

Howl, not liking the direction this conversation was going at all, coughed lightly to announce his presence. The two turned around sporting identical evil grins.

"Why hello Howl!" chirped his wife, standing up, "Why are you here?'

Howl began to slowly back away. It was not natural for Sophie to be smiling so widely. "Um…isn't it time for lunch?" he ventured.

He hadn't thought it possible, but Sophie's smile grew even wider, "Oh is it?" she asked sweetly, "I couldn't tell at all, what with trying to _clean your bathroom."_

Howl paled. His wife only used that venomous tone when she was on the brink of doing something very evil, like mix up his hair products on purpose, or hiding all the mirrors. "What's wrong dear?" he asked, while slowly backing away.

"What's wrong? Let's see, I spend nearly _five hours_ trying to clean your bathtub, and you come in asking for your lunch," Sophie said, rolling her sleeves up.

"And it's your fault in the first place that the bathtub is stained!" Michael piped up, climbing out of the tub, glaring.

Howl was beginning to regret ever opening the door, "You could have asked me to—" he began, but was cut off by Sophie's snort.

"Ask you to help? _Ask you to help?_" repeated Sophie disbelievingly, "You're always so busy! And then you would smirk infuriatingly!"

Howl was already halfway out of the door, sweating away. What was wrong with his normally peaceful lovely wife? "Are you feeling alright Sophie?" he suggested, "Maybe you should go lie down."

"Lie down_?" _Sophie fumed, "_Lie down? Never!"_

Howl shot a look at Michael, who simply glared in response, "We're sick of this!" he announced.

"Of what?" Howl asked uneasily.

"Of cleaning when you don't do anything!" declared Sophie loudly.

Howl blinked, "But I do do things," he pointed out reasonably.

"You don't clean!" Michael said mutinously.

"But neither do you, usually," Howl said, making a sweeping gesture that he hoped seemed placatory. He really didn't like to see his wife so upset.

"At least I do sometimes!" Michael retorted, but it was too late. Sophie's head slowly swung towards him. He looked at her nervously, "What?"

Sophie pointed a trembling finger at him, "You _men!" _she spat out.

Michael began to back away into the direction that Howl was going, hissing at Howl, "Do _something_!"

"What?" Howl hissed back, "You're the one who started this!"

"You must have done something to make her this mad!" insisted Michael.

Howl scratched his head, running through what he had done throughout the past few days. While there were a couple of small errors here and there (in hindsight, maybe trying to get the wall to paint hadn't been such a good idea. It had taken him _ages _to get the paint out of his hair, and even longer even with Sophie's help to clean up the mess) but nothing so disastrous that it would get Sophie this riled up.

But it couldn't hurt to try. He squared his shoulders to look at his glaring wife, and said tentatively, "I'm sorry for the whole painting mess a week ago?"

Sophie blinked and then added, "Well, what about those dishes two weeks ago? And that cat? And that grass?"

Howl squirmed. Thinking back, maybe it he hadn't really thought through it completely when he tried to dry that cat with magic and make the grass greener. He tried again, "I'm sorry for all that too?"

Sophie seemed to just be getting started though, "And those shelves? The mirror? The stove? The—"

"Okay, I get it!" Howl exclaimed frantically, clutching his ears. It really was painful to hear the long list of errors (not mistakes) pouring out of his wife's mouth, "I'm sorry for everything I've ever done wrong!"

Sophie stopped to consider the idea. She rolled it over in her head, turned it around, and prodded it a few times for good measure, before nodding and saying, "Well in that case you can clean your bathroom yourself from now on," before promptly flouncing out of the bathroom and past both a terror stricken Howl and Michael.

"…what's wrong with her?" whispered Michael, glancing around to make sure Sophie really had gone downstairs.

Howl shrugged in confusion, "You don't know?"

"I wouldn't be asking if I did," Michael pointed out bluntly.

"I know," Calcifer's voice called out smugly.

"Okay, why then Calcifer?" Howl asked.

"I'm not telling," Calcifer replied, his voice, if possible, getting even smugger.

Howl frowned, "Calcifer, don't be such a child."

Calcifer snorted, "Do you know how old I am, Howl? At the very least, I'm a thousand years older than you."

"In terms of maturity you're still eons behind me," Howl said haughtily, "Spill."

Calcifer was silent for several minutes, before Howl threatened, "I _will _sprinkle water on you Calcifer."

"You wouldn't do that to me!" exclaimed Calcifer frantically, "Who keeps this castle moving for you, huh?"

"I don't care," replied Howl petulantly, "If you don't tell me soon I really will."

"Fine," muttered Calcifer, "Sophie's pregnant."

Howl paused before passing a hand over his forehead, "I'm sorry Calcifer, could you repeat that again? I thought I heard you say something odd."

Calcifer muttered something that sounded a lot like, "Idiot wizard," and then repeated himself, "Sophie's pregnant."

Howl gaped, and then promptly ran down the stairs, screaming, "Sophie! _Darling! _I'm a father!"

Michael blinked, and then asked, "Are you _serious?"_

Calcifer sniffed, "Of course I am. How could I joke about something like this?"

"But how did you know?" Michael practically wailed, "And why didn't you tell us _sooner?"_

Calcifer snorted, "It was perfectly obvious to anyone who had bothered to notice. Girls don't puke up their guts on a normal basis you know. Or get neurotic as hell. I thought you two already knew."

"If we already knew wouldn't Howl have already done something like _that?" _exclaimed Michael, jabbing a finger at Howl who was happily twirling around a protesting Sophie.

"That's true," Calcifer considered, "Oh well. All's well that ends well, right?"

"Howl, let me down," Sophie repeated, trying to wiggle out of Howl's grasp, but not succeeding.

"No!" Howl sang out happily, "We're going to be parents Sophie!"

"I know that Howl," Sophie said calmly, "But I'm feeling sick."

Howl quickly set her down, and peered at her closely, "Do you feel okay?"

Sophie put a hand over her mouth and grimaced, "Somewhat I think, but don't swing me around anymore."

"I won't my darling!" Howl declared loudly, "What would you like? Some milk? Toast? Eggs? Bacon?"

Sophie's face turned a shade of green, "Please don't talk about food," she muttered, bending down and clutching her stomach with one hand, "Unless you want me to puke."

Howl's face fell, "I'm so sorry! How can I make it up to you dear?"

Sophie's mouth twitched into a grin so sinister that Calcifer audibly gulped, although Howl was too preoccupied to hear. "Well," she began, picking herself from the ground, "you could probably begin with cleaning the bathroom yourself."

"Absolutely," Howl agreed instantly, "It can't be good for the baby for you to be handling all those dangerous chemicals."

"Could you also clean the rest of the house then?" Sophie asked sweetly.

"Of course!" Howl beamed, "It would be my pleasure!"

"Then will you also organize the library? It's atrocious. Don't forget the storerooms as well. And the garden while you're at it," Sophie continued relentlessly.

Howl's smile began to slip, but he valiantly rallied, "Certainly!"

"Perhaps you could cook all the meals too from now on?" Sophie asked idly.

Before Howl could even open his mouth, Michael had prostrated himself in front of Sophie, "Don't do this to us Sophie! Please! We know you're mad, but _don't make us eat whatever Howl cooks!"_

"I resent that!" Howl yelled, glaring at Michael.

"But it's true!" Michael shot back, not getting up, "Remember how it was before Sophie came? We nearly _died."_

"We did not!" Howl retorted, "You just got a little…sick, that's all!"

"Oh yeah," Michael sneered, "You call puking my guts out just a _little _sick?"

"Well," Howl reconsidered, "Okay, fine, maybe I shouldn't cook, but it's not like you can do any better anyway."

"At least what I make is edible," Michael muttered.

"Having to hit the food with a rock to break it apart does not count as edible," Howl shot back.

"Alright, alright," Sophie sighed, interrupting the argument, "I'll still cook. But you both have to do all of the chores."

While Howl happily nodded in acquiesces, Michael protested, "Why do I have to do them?"

Sophie glared at him, "Do you want to suggest to your hair that it would be happier off your head?" she threatened.

Michael's hands flew up to his hair, "_No! _I'll do the chores!"

"Good," Sophie said smiling, "Now off you go."

As Howl and Michael scrambled off to finish the chores that had gotten ignored in favor of the stain in Howl's bathtub, Sophie settled into the big chair and sighed in contentment.

"Well, aren't you enjoying your reign Sophie," Calcifer commented.

"I have no idea what you mean, Calcifer," replied Sophie blithely, propping her feet on a plush foot-stool.

Calcifer chuckled, "Who would have ever thought that you were a tyrant after all?" he asked rhetorically.

Sophie ignored Calcifer and closed her eyes peacefully as crashes sounded throughout the castle with many yells.

"That's not how you clean Howl!"

"Of course it is!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"_Is not!"_

"_Is too!"_

Calcifer sighed. This was going to be a _long _nine months. Or something.

--

A/N: …wow, I finished. It took forever, and I think it's still OOC since I haven't read the book since something like 7th grade. Right…please review?


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